I love food.
I love eating.
I love eating so much that it's ever so slightly uncomfortable to yawn, or laugh too hard, or bend over to tie your shoes. Enough so that the owner of the restaurant pokes fun at you and your friend for consuming nearly double what people like you normally do. Enough so that you induce that good kind of food coma that makes you feel all relaxed and warm inside. Enough so that when you go home, you can just fall asleep on a comfortable bed and wake up not feeling famished.
Mind you, it's not good to eat until the point where your stomach aches and the food stops tasting good, because you just feel gross afterward.
So where, you might ask, did I go last night? I went to the Indonesian restaurant, Jakarta, in San Francisco. For you East Bay residents, take the BART, get off at Montgomery station, take the 38 or 38L Muni (at Market and Montgomery) and get off at Geary and 6th. Walk two blocks south to Balboa, and walk a block west. You should be able to see it. Bon Apetit!
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